


Of Classic Literature and Unappreciative Programs

by Flikkun



Category: Tron (1982)
Genre: Fluff, Innuendo, M/M, classic literature, i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flikkun/pseuds/Flikkun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dillinger reads classic literature to Sark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Classic Literature and Unappreciative Programs

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Candlehat on Tumblr/dA, as part of a trade. She's drawing me my characters <3 This is probably really shitty and out of character because it's been forever since I watched Tron :o

Edward Dillinger strode into his office, briefcase in hand. After a disinterested glance at the flashing notifications in his inbox, he sank into his chair, the soft leather sighing under the weight. He set his briefcase gently on the desk, avoiding the numerous touch screens.  
  
“ _You have 37 new emails, Edward._ ” An electronic voice informed him after receiving no acknowledgement, exasperation slipping into his tone. “ _And it is well past your scheduled arrival time._ ”  
  
Dillinger said nothing, only tapped the desk before opening his briefcase locks with two sharp successive clicks. He slowly pulled out a dog-eared book from the neat nest of papers within. With reverent care he opened the book to his marker and began reading.  
  
“ _'Today, the Golden One stopped suddenly and said: “We love you.”But then they frowned and shook their head and looked at us helplessly. “No,” they whispered, “that is not what we wished to say.” They were silent, then they spoke slowly, and their words were halting, like the words of a child learning to speak for the first time:…_ '”  
  
Dillinger paused and eyed the text with affection before continuing. “’ _We are one . . . alone . . . and only . . . and we love you who are one . . . alone . . . and only. _’”__  
  
Sark's hologram crackled into appearance in front of Dillinger’s chair, hands folded behind his back. “ _Ayn Rand._ ” He intoned quietly. “ _Anthem._ ”  
  
Dillinger gave a small smile and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “Yes.” He breathed. His hands stroked the book unconsciously, smoothing its folded corners.  
  
Sark tilted his head slightly, watching the man in front of him. With quick, precise movements, he positioned himself atop the other man, legs straddling him. “ _You never cease to fascinate me with your taste in literature._ ”  
  
Dillinger huffed a short laugh and twined their fingers together. “Perhaps I should encode some classic literature appreciation into that electronic brain of yours.” He chided, mouthing the words against the program’s cheek.  
  
Sark untangled their fingers to snatch the book from Dillinger’s careful grasp and toss it carelessly onto the desk behind him. His hands now empty, Dillinger wrapped his arms comfortably around the program’s waist.  
  
Sark tugged gently on Dillinger’s tie, loosening the carefully constructed knot. The program hummed quietly. “ _Surely you can dream up a better way to earn my appreciation than_ that.”


End file.
